Our Werewolf
by Wuff
Summary: Raising werewolves properly is vital to ensure safety in the wizarding world," the Ministry says. "Therefore it should only be done by respectable and responsible families." So the Blacks decide to purchase young Remus Lupin.
1. The Worst Birthday

**Author's Note:** Due to beta-reader-problems I can't update my other stories as often as I'd like to, so I decided to start a new one. It's a bit different from what I normally write, more original, I hope to think.

Warning: This story does _not _contain slash (I was tempted to make it into another slash story but I think it works just as well - or even better - without any romance). _But_ you could always read it as implied slash if you want to. Also, I'm not so sure about the rating yet. Parts of it are pretty disturbing (at least to me - it's something between child abuse and racism) but I don't intend to write graphic violent scenes. I want it to be more subtle. If you feel it should rather be rated M, please tell me. Last warning: This story is not beta-ed and therefore might contain a few mistakes. I do my best but if you spot any mistakes, feel free to correct me!

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable belongs to J. K. Rowling.

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**Chapter One**

**The Worst Birthday**

Who would have ever thought that spilling a few drops of pumpkin juice could have such horrible consequences? Sirius and Regulus did it every so often – such things simply happened. Their mother would chastise them and maybe give them a little slap but that was all. Lulu, however, got much, much worse than a little slap.

Lulu was the house-elf of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. She had already served Sirius and Regulus' grandparents, and she was known for being utterly devoted to her family. The devotion was one-sided.

It was at Sirius' sixth birthday that Lulu spilled pumpkin juice on Mrs. Malfoy's new, expensive, white dress robe. Sirius, Regulus, Cissy and the other children were highly amused because of Mrs. Malfoy's indignant squeak and Walburga Black's frantic apologies. It was a very welcome change to the stiff and boring atmosphere at the 'party.' The funniest thing, of course, was when Orion Black told the house-elf to choke herself as punishment and she did it until her huge eyes popped out of her head. It was just too hilarious! Really, how could you be so stupid to choke yourself just because someone told you to?

Finally, Orion Black told Lulu to stop choking herself and get into the kitchen and put her hands in the oven. The party was more amusing from that point onwards because the children had gotten the wonderful idea to play 'house-elf and owner' (one child was the house-elf and had to do all the crazy things the other children told them to do).

xxxxx

The grownups, however, did not think the incident funny in the least.

"I've told you thousands of times we need a new house-elf!" Walburga ranted accusingly as soon as the last guest had left the house. "How embarrassing! In front of the Malfoys and the Notts! What will they think of us? _The Blacks, can't even afford a decent house-elf!_"

"Please calm down, you're going to wake up the children," her husband said in a more levelled voice.

"Orion," she hissed warningly. "Do you want the wizarding world to look down on us?"

"Listen, I've told you before: The prices for house-elves are ridiculously high at the moment."

"So it's true then," she snapped. "The Blacks really can't afford even a house-elf."

"Walburga, we already have one house-elf -"

"One house-elf is hardly enough for a house like ours!" she exploded again.

"Let's just wait a few months. The goblins speculate that the prices will sink again after the Christmas holidays."

"Christmas holidays? I can't wait three more months! And we can't celebrate Christmas with only one house-elf."

"We could always rent a house-elf from _Comet Catering_ for the holidays."

Walburga Black snorted. "I won't sink that low. That would be like that Zabini whore who just pretends she's wealthy."

"Don't you think it could be possible for Lulu to recover if Healer Cabbledot gave her a few injections again?" Orion Black suggested cautiously.

"It's hopeless! _Hopeless!_ Lulu is old, much too old for a house-elf. It's not the first time something like that happened – no, last month she forgot to clean the bust on the second floor and just three days ago she dropped a silver goblet." She ignored the fact that the silver goblet had not broken. It was a matter of principle.

"Very well, then…" Orion gave a long-suffering sigh. "I'm going to ask Prewett tomorrow. He always knows where you get high quality elves."

A brief satisfied smile crossed Walburga Black's thin lips. "Come to think of it, maybe we don't need to buy a new house-elf, after all. Actually, I have another idea." It was as if she had directed the whole conversation to this point and had now finally reached her goal. She strode over to the massive oak desk and pulled a leaflet out of the top drawer.

Mildly interested, her husband took the piece of parchment to read it. While his sharp grey eyes darted back and forth over the parchment, the crease between his brows deepened more and more. Finally he looked up again.

"You can't be serious, Walburga," he said in disbelief. "You want one of those…_half-breeds_ in our house?!"

Obviously offended, Mrs. Black pursed her lips. "I heard Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Bulstrode talking about it at Twilfit & Tatting's. Apparently it's very _en vogue_ today to own a werewolf."

"Is it, now?" Orion Black considered it for a moment. It was a very good argument. And Mrs. Flint was always up-to-date.

"Just think about it: It's so much cheaper than a house-elf," she tried to coax him. "All we have to do is go to the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, fill in a few forms to convince them we're a '_responsible and respectable family_' – ha, as if that was a problem! And if it is a problem, silver works always wonders. Well, and then we can choose our werewolf and bring it home."

"But isn't it a bit dangerous? Sirius and Regulus would never stand a chance if it attacked them."

"We can choose a young one, and of course we have to buy a safe cage for it to transform in."

Orion nodded slowly. It made sense. It was a really good idea. He took the old sword from its place at the wall, and drew the long and rusty blade out of the sheath that was embroidered with emeralds.

"Lulu!" he called the old house-elf.

xxxxx

"Lulu!" Sirius, who lay in his bed, called too. He had a really painful stomach-ache from all the cream gateau he had eaten today. Yes, all the adults had told him he would get stomach-ache if he did not stop after his third slice of cake _but_ he had had to eat in advance because they would not get cream gateau again till Regulus' fifth birthday and that was still a looong time to go.

Sirius groaned and squirmed under his thick blankets. Why didn't the old house-elf come? He was in desperate need of a hot water bottle and one of Lulu's special herbal teas which helped ease the pain – and which, surprisingly, also tasted nice enough.

"_Lulu!_" Sirius called again, louder this time. (Although it didn't make a difference with house-elves: They only heard the strength of the order, not the volume of the voice.)

Stupid, slow, unreliable house-elves – letting him suffer here like this! Oh, he would tell Lulu to put her hands in the oven as punishment, yes, every single finger!

Reluctantly, Sirius decided to call Kreacher instead. He did not like the younger house-elf very much. Kreacher _always_ favoured Regulus: If they ordered food or something to drink, Kreacher would _always_ serve Regulus first and give him the better chocolate bar or the bigger cauldron cake. Lulu, however, served Sirius first, which really was his privilege, naturally, as he was the firstborn.

At long last, the house-elf appeared in Sirius' room. He bowed deeply and said, "Good evening, Master Sirius. Kreacher is at your service."

"I've got stomach-ache," Sirius sniffed between his most miserable whimpers.

"Kreacher is so sorry, Master Sirius," Kreacher said, his squeaky voice dripping with (probably false) pity. "Could Kreacher bring Master Sirius a potion to make it better?"

"No! I don't want a potion! I want Lulu-tea! Where is Lulu?"

"Lulu is on a plaque now," Kreacher explained nervously.

"On a plaque? What's that supposed to mean? Why doesn't she come if I call her?"

"Lulu can't come anymore. Lulu is on a plaque now, Lulu is there with the other house-elves."

"If you don't stop lying, I'll tell you to jump out of the window and break all your bones, your arms, yours legs, your head, your neck, ears, fingers, toes, teeth, nose, eyes…" Sirius took a deep breath and moaned again when his stomach crammed convulsively. "I'm not stupid. I know that the house-elves at the wall aren't real. They can't speak."

"Lulu can't speak anymore either." Kreacher's ears drooped sadly when he said that.

Sirius finally gave up. The pain in his stomach was too much to wonder about the house-elves' disobedient behaviour.

"Bring me the potion, then," he said sullenly. "And drop the biggest cauldron on your toes!" he added as an afterthought. Served the stupid elf right!

xxxxx

The next day, Sirius' stomach-ache had gone. But he had not forgotten that Lulu had abandoned him in his hour of need.

"Mum, Lulu didn't come last night when I called her," Sirius informed his mother during breakfast. "I called her very, very often and _she didn't come_."

"Well, Sirius, she was a very old house-elf," his mother began but Sirius interrupted her.

"But I had _stomach-ache_ and I needed Lulu-tea but she didn't come."

"You must punish her," Regulus chimed in.

"Yes, very, very much," Sirius affirmed. They started coming up with very creative ideas for punishment until their father said, "What you need to understand, boys, is that Lulu cannot serve us anymore."

"Why? Is she ill?" Regulus asked, chewing his lower lip in worry.

"No. She is too old. She has gone. She will never come back."

"But you can tell her to come back," Sirius said impatiently. "She _has_ to come back if you tell her to come back." He was not worried in the slightest. His father could make everyone do what he wanted them to do.

"No, she really can't come back anymore," his mother said. "She's dead."

"Dead?" Sirius echoed the odd word that he had sometimes heard in Lulu's fairytales. But only the monsters and the Muggles died in her stories… It did not make sense because Lulu was one of the good ones. How could she be dead?

"Half-dead or undead or real dead?" Regulus asked and Sirius suddenly had a sinking feeling in his stomach. What if Lulu had been bitten by a vampire?

"Really dead," their mother specified.

"Okay," Sirius mumbled and continued eating his scrambled eggs in silence.

"Mum?" Regulus' small voice finally broke the silence. "What does it mean?"

"It means Lulu is gone."

"When will she come back?" Sirius asked nonchalantly.

"She won't come back," his father said. "She is not there anymore. She's gone."

"Yeah but when will she come back to us?" Regulus asked nervously, his lips trembling.

"Regulus, why can't you understand that she _will not_ come back!" their father said harshly.

Sirius' fork clattered down on his plate. "But she _has_ to come back!" he said defiantly.

_Thump!_ Their father's fist thudded hard on the table. "Lulu. Will. Not. Come. Back. _Never_."

"Wha-What?!" Regulus spluttered. Sirius felt sick again and his throat constricted painfully.

"Regulus, don't talk with food in your mouth!" his mother rebuked him.

Regulus choked. "But I want Lulu back," he said in a whining voice, and choked again.

"Yeah, me too," Sirius backed up his little brother. "I want Lulu back, too."

"We will buy a new house-elf," their mother said. "Or even something better than a house-elf."

"But I don't want a new house-elf!" Sirius angrily stabbed his knife into his bacon. There was no replacement for Lulu. No one else could make the wonderful Lulu-tea. No one else could tell such creepy bedtime stories that made him hide under his blanket together with Regulus. No one else had always been there for him, had come to him in the middle of the night when he had had a bad dream or stomach-ache.

Unexpectedly, Regulus slid down from his chair and darted out of the kitchen. A few moments later, a long piercing scream echoed through the house. Sirius jumped up now, too, and made to follow Regulus. His younger brother stood transfixed on the first step of the dark staircase that led upstairs. His eyes were wide open and held a look of utter horror.

"Regulus?" asked their mother, who came out of the kitchen now, too, to see what was wrong.

"It's Lulu," Regulus whispered, his lips barely moving, his eyes glued to a spot at the wall.

Sirius followed his gaze and when he saw whose head had joined the row of shrunken heads mounted on plaques on the wall, he screamed, too.

xxxxx

Sirius and Regulus had barricaded themselves in Sirius' room. They did not want to see their parents again. Ever. They wanted to stay in this room forever and then their terrible parents would finally miss them and regret everything they had done. Ha, let them suffer! They deserved it!

"Sirius?" Regulus whispered after a long silence in which he had hugged his favourite stuffed animal, a light blue dragon, tightly to his chest and Sirius had tidied up his room to distract himself.

"Yes?" Sirius whispered back.

"Do you… Do you think the other… heads… Do you think they were… Do you think they could speak and walk and eat once, too?"

"I… I don't know." Sirius' heart hammered faster and faster, he was sure it would jump out of his chest any minute. And he accidentally bit his tongue in his panic. "I hate them," he said just to say something. He had already said it dozens of times. "I hate Mum and Dad. I really, really hate them."

"I really, really hate them, too," Regulus dutifully agreed with his older brother.

"And we will never talk to them again," Sirius made a grim vow.

"_Never_," Regulus emphasized.

xxxxx

But it was hard to stick to that vow of silence. In the evening, their stomachs rumbling, they decided to leave Sirius' room to eat dinner. It was hard to keep silent when you ate together with someone and were asked questions and threatened with punishment if you didn't answer.

Regulus kept it up through dinner, he did not wish his parents goodnight and he did not ask them all the fearful questions that troubled him. He spent the night in the cellar with Kreacher, who explained everything about his dead mother who was stuck on a plaque now. The next morning, Regulus broke. The silence was driving him crazy. He asked his Mum to pass him the pumpkin juice during breakfast.

Now it was only Sirius who adamantly kept to his self-imposed vow. But it was hard for a little boy, who had just turned six years old, to be forbidden to speak to anyone. He made it through lunch and dinner but before nighttime, he could not take it anymore. Swallowing back his tears, he told his parents, "I hate you. And I'm going to bed now."

They were on speaking terms again. One week later, Sirius even stopped hating them. Things were almost back to normal. But when Sirius and Regulus used the staircase now that was lined with the shrunken house-elf heads, they would always avert their gaze and press their eyes tightly shut when they hurriedly ran past them. And put both hands over their eyes, too, to be absolutely sure that they did not see what was there.

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**Author's Note**: Well, what do you think? Promising start or boring? Please let me know :-) I hope that you thought my portrayal of young Sirius and Regulus was believable and that you enjoyed the cosy atmosphere of the Black household. You'll see Remus in the next chapter! 


	2. Just Like Me

**Author's Note:** First of all, let me tell you that I was overwhelmed by the amount of positive feedback I received for the beginning of this story. Thanks to each and everyone who took the time to send me a review! I love you!!!

I'm sorry you had to wait so long for another chapter. I wrote this story on my old notebook and then it broke down (and of course I had forgotten to save the story anywhere else)... Now it's finally working again.

Many of you asked me if I could inlcude slash (homosexual romance) in this story. I'll try to give you a justification for my decision against it: I get annoyed every time I watch a movie or read a book, and if there's a girl and a boy, they _always_ fall in love with each other. I often ask myself: Why couldn't they just stay friends? Doesn't friendship mean anything? Can't a good story/movie exist without romance? Then I realised I was being a bit hypocritical because I do write romance stories, too. And I was tempted to make this into a slash story, too. My conclusion? There's nothing wrong with romance in a story but sometimes it's just unnecessary - like in this story. It would feel wrong to add romance just for the sake of writing two boys who are kissing each other if it has nothing to do with the plot. It is my belief that emotions in a friendship can be just as deep as in a romantic relationship. I hope this is okay with you. Also, I'm sure you'll find enough "subtext" to imagine a slashy relationship if you want to.

That being said - I hope you enjoy this chapter! And please keep in mind that the kids are only six (Sirius and Remus) and four (Regulus) years old.

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**Chapter 2**

**Just Like Me**

Sirius met him for the first time one grey and rainy November afternoon when he and his little brother were playing hide-and-seek in the huge house of the Blacks. Sirius had decided to hide in the cellar despite the smell of rotten food, and the scary, creaking, narrow staircase which led into the dark depths. That was why it was such a good hiding place.

He passed Kreacher, who lived down here, on his way. The house-elf was muttering something about 'half-breeds' and 'dirt' under his breath.

"Hey, Kreacher, don't tell anyone where I am," Sirius told the house-elf in a hushed voice.

"Kreacher won't tell anyone, Master Sirius," he promised. But Sirius knew Kreacher would soon be in a conflicting position once Regulus ordered him to tell him where Sirius was hiding. He knew the house-elf well enough to expect him to side with Regulus in the end and give Sirius' secret away. Sirius really did not like him. If only Lulu was still there…

Careful not to make a noise, Sirius emptied a huge cauldron which was full of dirty laundry. He then scrambled into the cauldron himself, curled up into a tiny ball and pulled some of the clothes over his head again. It was a perfect hiding place. Regulus was _never_ going to find him here. The smell of the dirty cloaks was not very pleasant and Sirius was already beginning to wonder if he would suffocate here (what a tragic end for the Black heir!) --

Unexpectedly, the cloak right over his head was pulled away. How could Regulus have found him so quickly? Blinking, Sirius looked up to see someone else – a stranger – look down at him. The person's eyes widened upon seeing Sirius and then both of them screamed shrilly.

Panicking, Sirius jumped out of the cauldron and hid behind it. His heart was hammering away. Who was that stranger? What was he (or she?) doing here? Was it an evil spirit that had been haunting the house since Lulu's death? Sirius curled his sweaty hands into fists. Ready to defend himself if he was attacked, he risked a peek around the laundry cauldron – and promptly retreated behind it again. The stranger was still there. He was a boy, Sirius was sure of that now, but he had not had time to absorb more information about him.

Okay, what to do now? He could not do magic and he did not carry any sort of weapon with him. Well, he was good at scratching someone with his fingernails (Regulus complained about it every so often). His parents would not hear him down here if he called for help… Before he could fully contemplate his options, the strange boy spoke.

"Er… Hello? Who are you? Master Sirius, is that you?"

"Yes. Er, _no_, I mean." It was certainly not very wise to give his identity away, was it? "I won't tell you my name before you tell me who you are." His voice was meant to sound fearless and commanding but it came out rather small and nervous.

"Oh. I'm the werewolf," the other boy replied shyly.

At that, Sirius' heart stopped beating. A _werewolf_? A _werewolf_ in their house? He was alone with a _werewolf_ in the cellar? He remembered all the scary pictures in his books: The monsters with the yellow eyes and the long teeth from which blood was running down. And, even worse, he remembered Lulu's spine-chillers on werewolves. What had she said? _Werewolves are even more dangerous than vampires. You must never go out at night alone, mark my words, boy. There's nothing you can do against a werewolf. Neither a unicorn heart nor hundred litres of dragon blood can help you then. No, if you ever have the misfortune of meeting a werewolf, there's only one thing you can do: Run. Run as fast as you can and pray for your life. _

And that was what Sirius did. He scurried past the laundry cauldron and sprinted up the creaky stairs. He was in such haste that he tripped twice but he was always on his feet again in no time at all. Run. Run, run, run. Run as fast as you can.

As soon as he had left the cellar, he bolted the door behind him. But he did not stop running.

"Mum! Dad!" he screamed in panic. "Mum! Dad! _Help!_"

Alarmed, his mother stepped out of her study. "Sirius? What is it?"

"Mum," he panted, "there's a werewolf in our cellar!"

"What!" his mother exclaimed, scandalised. "What did that half-breed do to you? Did it scare you?"

"Yes," Sirius whimpered. "Mum, what if he comes up to eat us? Where's Dad?"

"Dad's at work. Now, don't worry. That werewolf in our cellar is not dangerous at all. First of all, it's only a very little werewolf now. You have nothing to worry if it's not the night of the full moon. And even then, you're perfectly safe here. The werewolf will spend that night in a cage."

Sirius nodded, though only partly reassured.

"Kreacher!" his mother suddenly bellowed. Of course, the house-elf immediately appeared next to them with a little _crack_.

"Kreacher, bring the werewolf here," Sirius' mother ordered.

"No!" Sirius squeaked in fear but Kreacher had already left. "Mum, please, don't – I'm afraid of him! What if he bites me?"

"He won't." His mother brushed it aside impatiently. "The most important thing is: You mustn't show him your fear. He must know that he could never frighten you."

"But I _am_ afraid," Sirius argued.

"I just told you not to _show_ your fear!" his mother snapped at him.

Sirius winced but kept his mouth shut and waited obediently next to (or rather: behind) his mother. He was trembling but was trying very hard not to show it: Neither to his mother nor to Kreacher, who arrived with the werewolf boy on his heels. Sirius moved still a bit more behind his mother's back. Unfortunately, his mother moved away right then and grabbed the werewolf's arm.

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from my children!" she shouted at him.

"I-I-I didn't do anything, I swear, Mistress Black," the werewolf said quickly. Now was the first time Sirius really examined him. During the incident in the cellar, he had hardly had time to look at the other boy in his terror. The boy was about as tall as Sirius was, he was also pale but he had lighter hair. And there was something about him that made him look rather spectral. Maybe it was the strange sort of paleness. Or the shadows around his eyes. Or simply the fact that he was a werewolf.

"I stayed in the cellar and then suddenly --"

_Smack!_ Sirius winced slightly when the back of his mother's hand collided with the werewolf's cheek. Sirius knew from his own experience that his mother's hand could really sting if she put a bit of an effort in it.

"Now, Sirius, I'm going to show you that there is absolutely no reason to be afraid of a filthy half-breed," his mother announced. She pulled the werewolf closer and took something out of the pocket of her cloak.

"See this?" She held the tiny object up, which, upon further examination, was nothing more but a simple Sickle. "Sickles are made of silver. Always remember that silver gives you perfect control over every werewolf." She moved the Sickle closer to the werewolf's arm. The boy was trying in vain to get away from her. One of her hands closed around his arm like a Devil's Snare, her other hand lightly touched his forearm with the Sickle. At this, the werewolf hissed and made a funny movement: He twitched as convulsively as the house-elves did when they suddenly realised they had done something wrong or said too much. Then Sirius' mother let go off the werewolf, who immediately made three hasty steps backwards.

"You want to feel the silver again?" she said in her most dangerous voice.

The werewolf fervently shook his head.

"Well, then you better leave now, and stay away from my son." She lifted the Sickle in a threatening way like a deadly weapon. Actually, it looked quite comical – an effect which was intensified when the werewolf turned on his heels and fled as if… as if a werewolf was chasing him. Sirius giggled. Now, wasn't that amusing? A werewolf chasing another werewolf. Hilarious! Sirius congratulated himself for his funny thought. His mother threw him a satisfied look.

"See? I told you there is no reason for you to be afraid of him. _He_ is the one who's afraid. Did you see how he ran for it?" She snorted contemptuously. "Cowardly half-breed. They have no control over themselves. A little bit of silver and they do everything you tell them to do. Weaklings…" She knelt down in front of her son and placed a Sickle in his hand. "Always take this with you from now on, do you understand me? _Always_."

Sirius nodded, enthusiastic that his mother had given him so much money just like that. Normally, he only got money when his grandparents came to visit them. Gran Melania gave him five Knuts every time they left again. He had never called a Sickle his own before. Just imagine how many Knuts he would get in exchange for one Sickle… He did not know the exact conversion but he knew it were _many_ Knuts. And how many exploding bon-bons he could buy with it next time they went to Knockturn Alley!

His mother stood up again and smoothed his dishevelled cloak. "Remember, it's him who's afraid of you, not the other way around. A Black does not know fear. Others may be afraid of us but we never show them our fear."

"I'm not afraid of him," Sirius said dutifully. "He's silly because he's afraid of a Sickle."

xxxxx

Sirius did not waste time informing his little brother on their werewolf. Naturally, Regulus' first reaction was much like Sirius': He was shocked to hear that such a dangerous beast lived in their house. But once Sirius had explained to him that the werewolf was harmless as long as you had silver with you, Regulus calmed down a bit. Still, he was not fully convinced yet.

"Sirius? Are you sure he's a werewolf? Maybe he's, you know, not a real werewolf?"

"Mum said he's a werewolf." It was enough of a justification. Their parents knew such stuff.

"Yeah, but you said he's small."

"Yeah."

"And no fur?"

"No fur."

"No yellow eyes?"

"No. They were blue, I think. Definitely not yellow."

"And no pointy teeth?"

"No." Sirius giggled. "He doesn't even _have_ front teeth. He's got a gap - just like me." Grinning widely, he showed the big gap between his teeth.

Regulus looked at it with jealousy and then he said, "Then he can't be a werewolf. Mum and Dad must've made a mistake."

"Yeah, probably." Sirius screwed up his face in deep thought. "But how can we find out if he's a real werewolf?"

"You can ask him," Regulus suggested. He gave his older brother a hopeful glance, asking to be praised for his great idea.

"Why me?!" Sirius said, scandalised. Yes, he was very curious to find out, and yes, maybe the boy wasn't even a werewolf _but_ you could never be sure of that. "You can ask him."

"No, you ask him."

"You do it. You want to find out."

"But so do you."

"No, I know he's a werewolf."

"You don't."

"I do!"

"You said yourself Mum and Dad must've made a mistake."

"It was your idea."

"Was not!"

"You're stupid!" Sirius finally said. Regulus could really be a pain in the ass. Typically stupid little four-year-old brothers... "You don't understand anything. I don't need to find out - I know he's a werewolf. If you wanna know, fine, go ask him!"

That was the end of their argument.

For a whole week, they did not see the boy who was - maybe or maybe not - a werewolf. Each day, Sirius' curiosity grew. Finally, he could not take it anymore. He decided to go down into the cellar because that was where he had met the strange boy for the first time. He wondered if the boy lived here. Maybe together with Kreacher?

With sweaty palms and a racing heart, Sirius sneaked past the chests with old belongings of the Black family. Over the decades and centuries, too many useless things had accumulated. Unfortunately, all the chests were locked. (Naturally, Sirius and Regulus had already tried to see what was inside.)

The light from the few lanterns that hung from the low ceiling bathed the cellar in a dim glow. The shadows from the old cauldrons, heaps of books, broken furniture and cleaning devices could hide anything. Sirius' heart stopped. Was that a shrunken head over there? No, just a dilapidated broomstick. But his relief did not last for long. There - a Living Shroud! That was even more dangerous than a werewolf and a vampire combined! It was going to come and suffocate him and no one knew he had gone down here, no one would come looking for him... But then he realised the Living Shroud was just an old and torn curtain. Nevertheless, Sirius' breath was shaking in fear. Where was the werewolf? He did not want to stay here much longer, so he opted for a very brave move: He called for the werewolf.

"Hello?" It was more of a whisper than a shout but someone must have heard him. There were movements behind the largest laundry cauldron and then the boy - the werewolf (?) - appeared from behind it. Oddly, Sirius felt almost relieved. It was not anything scary but just the boy. And the boy did not look threatening at all.

"Hello?" the boy said timidly.

"Hello," Sirius said again and made a hesitant step forward.

"How... How can I be of your service, Master Sirius?" The boy scrunched up his face in concentration as if he was trying very hard to remember the correct phrase.

"Are you _really_ a werewolf?" Sirius asked straightaway.

"Yes," the boy (the werewolf) answered just as directly.

Sirius scrutinised him thoroughly once more: He looked a bit sick and very thin and not werewolfish at all.

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked again.

"Yes. Look." The boy rolled up his sleeve and pointed at it.

Carefully, Sirius stepped closer to look at what was there. He gasped in shock when he saw a huge gash at the boy's left forearm.

"See? That's where the werewolf bit me," the boy explained.

"But that must _hurt_," Sirius said, still in shock.

"Just a little bit. It's not so bad anymore."

"Maybe Mum can give you a healing ointment," Sirius offered sympathetically.

"The healers tried putting healing stuff on it but it doesn't go away," the werewolf said. "It's because it's a werewolf bite."

"But my parents have loads of silver. They can buy _really_ good healing stuff," Sirius could not help but show off a bit. "They can buy you something so it goes away."

"You think so?"

"Sure."

"That'd be _great_." The werewolf smiled hesitantly. It made him look much healthier.

"So... You _are_ a werewolf," Sirius summarised what he had found out so far. "So you can turn into a wolf, right?"

"Yes."

"Can you show me?" he asked eagerly.

"Your parents will probably forbid you to be here when it's full moon because I could bite you."

"Would you do that?"

"Yes, probably."

Aghast, Sirius stared at the harmless-looking boy. "You shouldn't do that," he tried to sound menacingly. "My parents will punish you really, really bad if you do that."

The werewolf looked really worried now. "I wouldn't do it on purpose," he said quickly.

"Well, then you must be more careful!"

"I - I try."

"Trying is not enough," Sirius repeated one of his father's favourite sayings.

"Then you shouldn't come here at full moon."

"Can you do it now then?" Sirius asked impatiently.

"What?" the werewolf said, nonplussed.

"Turn into a wolf. I wanna see it."

The werewolf chuckled. "No, _of course _I can't do it now," he lectured Sirius. "I only turn into a wolf at full moon."

"Oh, come on, do it now, just for me? I wanna see it. Please?"

"I can't."

Sirius lost his patience. He was used to getting what he wanted. The house-elves were never that disobedient. "Do it now!" He put as much order into his voice as possible. But it did not seem to work with the werewolf.

"I already told you: I can't."

Sirius squinted and gave the boy a devastating glare. Maybe the boy was only making up a story and he was not really a werewolf at all. What kind of a werewolf was he if he could not even turn into a wolf?!

"You're lying," Sirius told him.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm _not_!"

Time to test his theory: Sirius fumbled in the pocket of his cloak for the Sickle his mother had given him. Without warning, he touched the boy's hand with it. The boy gave a sharp cry of surprise and pain, and jerked his hand away.

"What are you doing?" he told Sirius accusingly. He waved his hand as if he had burnt it. "I didn't do anything!"

Sirius found the boy's odd reaction somewhat amusing and immediately tried it once again. But this time, he pressed the coin much more tightly into the boy's hand to see if it warranted a greater reaction. And indeed, the boy screamed in pain and brutally shoved Sirius' hand away.

"Ouch." Angrily, Sirius glared at the boy. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Sirius advanced again with the Sickle. But this time the boy moved away fast enough. He quickly hid behind one of the chests.

"Hey, come back!" Sirius shouted and jumped over the chest.

"Leave me alone!" the boy yelled and scurried away again.

Sirius threw the Sickle after him but he ducked it easily. Thus, however, the boy had brought himself into a corner. Triumphant, Sirius picked up the Sickle but before he had even straightened up again, he received a hard kick in his stomach. He howled and doubled over with pain, and immediately the other boy was over him, pinning his hand, which held the Sickle, to the ground. Sirius spat, bit and struggled to get free of the boy's firm grip but only when he kicked his knees into the boy's stomach, he let finally go of Sirius' wrist. In the mess of limbs, cloaks and hair, Sirius had lost the Sickle but this was not about silver and werewolves anymore - it was a fight between two kids and in such fights, it usually doesn't matter for which reason you are fighting, who is right and who is wrong, or who started it. Sirius had had dozens of such fights with Regulus and most of the times he had won - he was the older and therefore the taller and stronger one. But this boy (werewolf) was just as tall and just as strong as Sirius. The punching, biting, scratching, kicking, pinching and pulling hair took much longer than usually.

Someone must have heard their yelled insults and cries of pain but they were too engaged in their fight to notice the "Stop it!"s. Sirius was grabbed around the waist and pulled away. The other boy was hit by a curse and sent crashing backwards into the wall. Then there was a chaos of voices all around him:

"Sirius - are you alright?"

"What did he do to you?"

"Dirty half-breed! How dare you!"

"He's bleeding!"

"You'll be punished for this so much you wish you'd never been born!"

Sirius clung to his mother, who fussed over him and made to heal his battle injuries. He noticed only dimly how his father grabbed the other boy, shook him roughly, hurled insults at him and attacked him with a Sickle.

"He scratched me, look." Sirius showed his mother the red lines on the back of his hand.

"Don't worry, Dad is going to punish him for that," his mother soothed him. She lightly touched his hand with the tip of her wand. Sirius winced nonetheless because of the tingling sensation when the scratches disappeared.

"He said he'd bite me," Sirius whimpered and pressed his face in his mother's shoulder.

"He said _what_?!" his mother hissed. Then she addressed her husband. "Orion, teach that monster a lesson! If he ever says something like that to my son again, he won't be able to walk for the rest of his life!"

_Smack!_ Orion did as he was being told and slapped the werewolf-boy in the face.

"And I think my arm is broken," Sirius complained.

"Nonsense, it's not broken," his mother said impatiently. "Don't be such a wimp."

"But it hurts," Sirius whined.

"You can still move it, so it's not broken."

Suddenly, there was a scream so full of agony that Sirius momentarily forgot his own misery and little ailments. He whirled his head around to see his father standing next to the werewolf and pressing a Sickle into his arm. The boy struggled with all his might to get away but Sirius' father held his arm in a vice-like grip. The boy howled with pain and Sirius was appalled when he realised that his father was pressing the Sickle into the wound where the boy had been bitten by a werewolf. Sirius quickly hid his face in his mother's shoulder again in order not to see the ugly wound and to imagine how much it must hurt.

"Stop it," a small voice could suddenly be heard among all the screams that came from the werewolf-boy.

Only now did Sirius notice that Regulus was here, too. Deep worry was written on the face of his little brother, who watched the whole scene from a safe distance on the staircase.

"Dad, stop it!" Regulus said again, more decisive this time.

"What?" Annoyed, their father stopped for a moment (but he never let go of the werewolf) and turned to Regulus. "Haven't you seen what he did to Sirius? I have to punish him, otherwise he never learns how to behave. We punish the house-elves too, don't we?"

"But you're hurting him." Regulus nervously chewed on his trembling lip.

"Ah. Well. He's a werewolf. Werewolves don't feel pain. They're not like us - like human beings. Don't worry, he doesn't feel the pain."

For a moment, Sirius was relieved - but only until Regulus spoke again: "Then why's he crying?"

Sirius turned to look at the werewolf. His eyes and lips were pressed tightly shut but his whole face was wet with tears and it was contorted in pain.

"Mum," Sirius whispered and pulled his mother's cloak. "Regulus is right. He _is_ crying."

"He's only acting," his mother said harshly. "That's what werewolves do: They never tell the truth, they are deceiving and cunning. You must never trust a werewolf, do you understand me?"

Hardly listening to what she was saying, Sirius nodded absent-mindedly, his eyes still on the werewolf. The tears were real, Sirius was convinced of that. No one could possibly act that well. Regulus seemed to agree with him.

What were Mr. and Mrs. Black to do? They could hardly continue punishing the werewolf in front of their children, could they? Because how else could they prove to their children that _they_ were the good ones and werewolves were the evil ones? They really had no other choice.

"Fine," Mr. Black snarled and shoved the werewolf away. "You're lucky - for now. If something like that ever happens again..." He did not have to finish his sentence. The werewolf hurriedly fled and disappeared behind the chests and cauldrons. Now Mr. Black directed his anger at his oldest son.

"What were you doing down here anyway?"

The whole episode ended with Sirius getting grounded for a whole week.


	3. Thunder and Lightning

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my lovely reviewers! Your feedback makes writing this so much more fun!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Thunder and Lightning  
**

Regulus did not understand it. Why did a strange boy live in their cellar? Why was that boy a werewolf? And how could silver protect him against a werewolf? Why had their father punished the boy so harshly? He was never that strict with Sirius or Regulus. Where did that werewolf-boy come from? And what was he doing here?

After lying awake in his bed for what seemed like hours, he went down into the living room, where his parents were still sitting by the fire.

"Regulus, why aren't you in bed?" his father addressed him sternly.

"Can't sleep," he mumbled and climbed on the sofa next to his mother. "Mother, why does that boy live here?" he whispered anxiously.

His mother sighed and exchanged a glance with his father. "Regulus, that boy is not a normal child like you or Sirius," she said finally. "He's a werewolf. It means he was bitten by another werewolf and now turns into a wolf at full moon. Well, when that happened, his parents did not want him anymore. They abandoned him. So we decided our house is big enough, he can live here. Now we pay for his meals and his upbringing."

"His parents did not want him?" Regulus repeated, feeling suddenly sick. "But why?"

"Because they hated him for being a werewolf."

"And then they just threw him out of their house?" Regulus felt such pity for the werewolf-boy that his whole chest ached with it.

"Yes, they did," his mother said sadly.

Regulus felt tears rising in his throat. Parents were supposed to love their children, they couldn't just abandon their child! "Mother?" he whispered miserably and grabbed her arm, to which he clung as if someone wanted to separate him from her. "You wouldn't leave me or Sirius alone if we were werewolves, would you?"

There was a long pause, in which Regulus' breathing grew erratic and he had to use all his willpower to force the sobs down.

"No, we would never leave you alone," his mother finally said. "Go to bed now."

"Okay." Relieved but nonetheless a bit reluctant, Regulus stood up and went to bed.

As always, he closed his eyes firmly when he had to pass the row of shrunken house-elf heads on the wall. But he did not put his hands over his eyes anymore. It was not as frightening as it had been the first days after Lulu's death. Kreacher had explained to him that it did not hurt the dead elves to be headless. If they were dead, they could not feel pain anymore.

xxxxx

Sirius was still grounded when his parents and Regulus went to a family gathering at the Notts'. Frankly, he was glad he did not have to accompany them. Family gatherings were one of the most boring things in the world. Staying at home alone, however, was exciting. He could try to nick a few Fizzing Whizbees from the kitchen and he could slide down the banisters. He could stay up as long as he whished... Naturally, his parents had ordered Kreacher to bring him to bed in time but that order was not precise enough because they had not said anything about Sirius _staying_ in bed. He could simply go to bed when Kreacher told him to, then get out of bed and order Kreacher not to tell his parents about it. Easy.

It was a good evening. His stomach buzzing pleasantly from all the Fizzing Whizbees, Sirius chose Drooble's Best Blowing Gum next. You had to take advantage of an evening alone at home. Sirius loved Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. It did not taste good at all but that was not the important thing. The important thing was that the bubbles which you blew stayed in the room for hours. No matter how hard you tried: They did not pop. That did not stop Sirius from trying everything, of course. He had pricked into the blue bubbles with a broomstick but nothing had happened. In the end, he had taken the thickest book he could find (the family registry) and had used it to smash the bubbles against the wall. And really, this time something did happen: The bubble got squashed (it looked like a poisonous pancake now) but soon afterwards it wobbled back to its original shape. It had left a light blue stain on the wall, though.

Sirius concluded that he just had to hit the bubbles harder to make them finally explode. He chased through the room, bashed the heavy book around, jumped up to reach the bubbles which floated under the ceiling… He was so caught up in his game that he did not hear the low rumbling in the distance. His laboured breathing and the _thuds_ whenever the book and the wall collided distracted him. He only heard it when it was already much closer.

Sirius stopped dead. His hands, which had just wound up to deliver another blow, stayed still in midair and let the bubble, which he had finally succeeded to trap between the book and the wall, escape.

No, it couldn't be. Not tonight. Not when his parents were away. Not even Regulus was here. He must have imagined it. It just couldn't be. But then he heard another approaching thunder. The family registry fell out of his weak hands, and he hurried to the window to take a peek outside. It was already dark but then, suddenly, everything went light as day for a moment, illuminating the deserted Grimmauld Place in an eerie light.

Sirius' breath hitched in his throat. His heartbeat, which was already quick from his bubble chase, doubled. He tore at the heavy curtains to make sure the lightning could not get inside. Now what? Where could he go? Where would he be safe?

Sirius had always been afraid of thunderstorms. It was the scariest thing in his six-year-old life. He feared the lightning more than vampires, Muggle-borns or even Living Shrouds. When he ran through the big and dark and empty house, he had never felt so lonely in his whole life.

"Mother. Father," he whimpered miserably, and then there was already the next growling thunder. What had Lulu once taught him? (Oh, if she was still here!) The more time there was between the thunder and the lightning, the farther away was the danger. When he had huddled up in a corner in the cellar with her, she had told him to count the time in-between. And then, by some mysterious calculation, she had assured him, no, the thunderstorm is still far away. How far away? Very far away, somewhere over the mountains where only Muggles live.

Sirius stumbled down the staircase and fell on his knees with a horrified squeak and put his hands over his head when the next lightning lit up the rows of shrunken house-elves on the wall. His heart racing, he crawled forwards. Maybe Kreacher or Werewolf were still here? Hopefully his parents had not taken them with them to the party. _Please, please, please, someone be here_, Sirius prayed inwardly while he listened thoroughly for the next thunder. He had to count then, quickly, to see how far the thunderstorm was still away.

There: the next thunder - _onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineteneleventwelvethirteenfourteenfifteensixteenseventeen eighteen _- lightning. Good. Sirius took a shaky breath. Eighteen between thunder and lightning. He had no idea what to do with this number to find out how far the thunderstorm was away but eighteen was much, very much. He tried to tell himself that.

"Kreacher," he cried in panic. "Kreacher! Come here, _now_!" But no one came. Sirius whimpered when he heard the next thunder and he was too disturbed to count correctly. He was sure, however, that it was already so much nearer.

"Werewolf!" he called next. Although Werewolf was only a little boy and probably couldn't do anything against thunderstorms, it would be better to just have someone here with him. "_Werewolf!_" he screamed again, more and more desperate with the minute. But no one answered his cries. He was alone. Tears were running down his face now. And there was another lightning. Choking loudly, he forced himself to move on. Blindly, he ran towards the cellar. There was only one thought in his head: The farther down he was, the farther away he was from the lightning.

But the door to the cellar was locked. He rattled at the door, banged his fist against it, jumped against it, and all the while he was sobbing and calling for help… At first, he did not hear the voice behind the door.

"What are you doing? Hey?!"

Sirius stopped for a moment. Someone was here! He was not alone after all!

"Werewolf? Is that you?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes."

The next thunder. "Let me in!" Sirius said urgently. He had to be down in the cellar before the next lightning arrived.

"Do you have silver with you?" came the response from the other side of the door.

"Just let me in!" Sirius sobbed and screeched when the hall was momentarily bathed in bright light again.

"Only if you don't bring silver with you."

"Okay, okay." Sirius pulled the Sickle out of his pocket and hurriedly laid it aside. He could always retrieve it later. If he survived this night, that is. "I don't have any silver, let me in now."

"Promise."

"I promise I don't have silver," Sirius choked between sobs.

"Swear it."

"I swear, I swear, I swear!" Why did Werewolf have to insist on this? There was already another loud thunder and if he didn't get into the cellar right now --

"You must swear it in the name of Merlin. Say it. Say: _I swear in the name of Merlin that I don't have any silver with me_."

"I swear in the name of Merlin that I don't --" _lightning_ "—LET ME IN!!"

And finally, at long last, the door opened. Werewolf pulled him inside, then slammed the door shut and locked it again. Together they rushed down the staircase. Werewolf led the way until they arrived in a corner of the cellar. The little place was separated from the rest of the cellar by an ancient, massive wardrobe. Old cloaks, torn curtains and a dirty cushion were piled in an untidy heap on the floor. Werewolf pushed Sirius to sit down there. Then he quickly went to fetch an oil lamp and put it directly in front of Sirius. Werewolf's hands were shaking just as much as Sirius'. He crouched down next to Sirius and pulled a large cloak over both of them.

Sirius whimpered when the next bolt of lightning arrived. Werewolf jerked when the next roll of thunder came. The next flash of lightning followed so closely that Sirius, in his panic, dug his fingers into Werewolf's arm.

"_Ouch!_" Werewolf kicked him hard. "Let go of me!"

"B-b-but what if we g-get struck b-by lightning?"

"Are you _afraid_?" Werewolf asked tauntingly.

"Of course I'm _not_ afraid!" Sirius protested vehemently, and his fear was indeed momentarily forgotten. "Are _you_ afraid?"

"No. Of c--" They gasped simultaneously when there was a noise that sounded like the roof had been blasted away. Werewolf's sweaty hand grasped Sirius' and squeezed it so hard that Sirius was certain all his fingers would break. But he did not mind because he _was_ afraid, and what was a broken finger in comparison with a thunderstorm? Sirius felt even more helpless when Werewolf let go of his hand again. The other boy pulled the oil lamp closer as if its quivering light and the little warmth it radiated could safe them from the overpowering danger and the darkness that seemed to be all around them. What could they, two little boys and a little light, do against the big world?

Werewolf jumped when another particularly loud thunder could be heard above. Sirius' fingers clutched the threadbare cloak as if it alone could safe him from certain death. Light flashed through the room once more. Sirius immediately started counting.

"One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten-eleven --"

Werewolf squeaked because the next thunder sounded even more threatening than the others. He huddled closer against Sirius again.

"Why're you doing this?" he whimpered when Sirius started counting anew.

Sirius continued counting to twelve, then gasped for breath and explained, "To find out how close the thunderstorm is. If there's much time between lightning and thunder, it means it's still far away."

"Really?" Thunder rolled directly over them as it seemed, and Werewolf ducked his head.

The next thunder and lightning were almost simultaneously, and this time Werewolf did not even protest when Sirius grabbed his arm.

"What if we get struck by lightning?" Sirius choked. "I-I-I don't wanna be a squib."

"A squib?"

"Yes, that's a wizard without magic. If lightning strikes us, it'll take all our magic away."

"That's nonsense. That's just a story for children."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked doubtfully, and his fingers dug even more deeply into Werewolf's arm during the next lightning.

"Yes, of course," Werewolf said superiorly. "It's not dangerous at all. What's _really_ dangerous is thunder. If it hits you, you implode."

"Implode? What's that?"

"It's like explode, just..." Werewolf hesitated. "Just different."

But Sirius was not entirely sure if it was true. He had never heard something like 'implode' existed. It seemed really unlikely. Nonetheless, it was comforting that Werewolf did not fear lightning as much as Sirius did. It made everything seem less dangerous. When the thunderstorm moved farther away, it was almost comfortable sitting here huddled together. The sort of cosiness Sirius got when Lulu had told him and his little brother spine chillers and the two boys had hidden together under a blanket. It was this mix of excitement, curiosity and pleasant shivers, which ran down your spine.

Sirius winced at every lightning, Werewolf winced at every thunder. At some point, it almost became a ritual, almost a game. They were more at ease now and talked so their voices would make the creepiness go away.

"What time is it?" Werewolf asked Sirius.

"I don't know. But it's got to be late."

"Yes. Really late. Nighttime."

"_Midnight_," Sirius specified. "How old are you?"

"Six."

Sirius beamed widely. "I'm six years old, _too_."

"Really?"

"Yes." They exchanged a glance, full of amazement that they were both of the same age.

"Uh, Master Sirius?" Werewolf asked hesitantly.

"Yes?"

Werewolf fidgeted and played with the loose strands of the cloak's hem. "Do you... Do you think... Next time you and Master Regulus play hide-and-seek -- can I play with you then?"

"Sure!" Sirius said enthusiastically. "That'll be great! It's much more fun if three children play it together. Sometimes Cissy plays with us but she isn't here all the time."

"Who's Cissy?"

"A girl."

"Ah."

"Can you count?"

"Yes. I can count to twenty-eight," Werewolf said proudly.

Sirius was deeply impressed. He could only count to nineteen. "We only count to nineteen if we play hide-and-seek. That's a _rule_."

"Okay. And where do you hide? Only in the house or also in the garden?"

"In the _garden_? We don't have a garden."

"Oh. But where is your swing then?"

"My uncle once went to a playground with me and Regulus. There was a swing. But we mustn't go outside alone. It's too dangerous. There are Muggles everywhere."

"But Muggles aren't dangerous. They don't have magic."

"But they'll try to steal our magic."

"Really? How?"

"I don't know. I'm going to ask my mother."

"Okay. You'll come to me and tell me when you play hide-and-seek next time, won't you?"

"Yes, yes, I will."

"Don't forget about it."

"I won't," Sirius promised earnestly.

Werewolf smiled broadly at him. In the huge gap between his teeth, a new tooth had already started growing. Sirius could see a tiny white tip. Sirius used his tongue to check once more if there was finally a new tooth in his gap, too. - Nothing.

"I'm tired," Sirius stated and yawned loudly to emphasize his point.

"Me too." Werewolf echoed Sirius' yawn and snuggled deeper under the cloak.

"Can I stay here?" Sirius asked because he could still hear faint thunder in the distance.

"Of course."

"But... where is your bed?"

"Here." Werewolf patted the heap of old clothes and curtains where they were sitting.

"Here?" Sirius skeptically examined the place, half expecting to find a bed hidden somewhere. "But you can't sleep here. It's much too hard to sleep."

"I-I can get more cloaks," Werewolf said nervously, "then you won't feel the hard floor."

"Okay." Sirius watched him hurry to fetch more cloaks, old towels and two more cushions. Together they built themselves a sleeping place. Sirius had to sneeze several times because the old cushions were so dusty. It was funny and exciting to sleep like this. But no matter how exciting it was, Sirius was very tired, and as soon as Werewolf had pulled the large cloak over both of them, he fell asleep.


	4. Friends

**Author's Note:** I apologise for the long wait. It's been ... two months and it really shouldn't have taken me so long. Thanks all the more for your helpful/supportive/encouraging feedback. Each and every review makes me very happy - and gives me a bad conscience about not updating regularly ... Special thanks to _emuroo_ who pointed out to me that Sirius obviously can count to eighteen, not only seventeen because he does so in the last chapter (what a stupid mistake of me - how embarrassing! It's been corrected now), to _nicmirusaki2_ who suggested to name the last chapter 'Lightning and Thunder' (which fits much better, I've changed it now) and to _lunabasketcase_ who is my 100th reviewer! Thanks!

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**Chapter 4**

**Friends**

Sirius woke up freezing, with his back aching and with someone clinging to him. He blinked his eyes open to see that 'someone' was Werewolf, whose thin arms wound tightly around Sirius's chest. It was still almost dark here. The only source of light was the pale sunray that came through a small fanlight. It was really cold and Sirius was grateful for Werewolf's body warmth. That did not stop him from shivering, though, and soon his movements woke Werewolf up, too. Sirius turned around to grin at him.

"Hello Werewolf."

The other boy smiled sleepily at him. "Hello Master Sirius."

"It's coooold here," Sirius complained.

"I could make a fire. And maybe breakfast is already finished."

"You can make a fire?" Sirius asked enviously. His parents always forbade him to play with fire.

"Sure. Come on, I can show you."

Sirius eagerly followed Werewolf. The other boy took pieces of wood from a stack at the back of the cellar. He piled them on an empty fireplace where normally a laundry cauldron would simmer. Then he took a torch from somewhere and ignited an old _Daily Prophet_ with it. Sirius watched with a mixture of curiosity and slight worry when Werewolf prodded the pieces of wood into the leaping flames.

"I want to do it, too," Sirius said zealously. Werewolf offered him a piece of wood. Sirius held it between thumb and index finger, and leant back as far as he could when he moved the piece of wood very, very slowly towards the flames.

"What if I get burned?" he asked when, for the third time, he retreated at the last possible moment because he had second thoughts.

"It's really hot and it burns your skin. My whole hand was full of blisters when I tried to make a fire for the first time." Werewolf grimaced at the memory. "It really hurts if you scratch the blisters open."

Sirius grimaced, too, and decided that fire was really dangerous and children shouldn't be allowed to play with it. He was saved the embarrassment of admitting this decision to Werewolf by Kreacher, who appeared next to them.

"Master Sirius and the half-breed," he said, shaking his head in disapproval. "Oh, Master and Mistress Black will be so angry ... They want to see you, the both of you. Now."

"But - but I didn't do anything wrong!" Werewolf protested.

"You'd better go now," Kreacher said almost gleefully.

Sirius felt a bit uneasy now, too. "Come on," he told Werewolf. "We'd better go. It'll only get worse if we let them wait."

"No, no, no, I won't go there." Werewolf shook his head vehemently.

"They'll get _really_ angry if we don't come. I and Regulus once had --"

"You can go!" Werewolf said almost hysterically. "I'll stay here! I'll never go there! I know they'll burn me with silver again!"

"Don't be such a wimp," Sirius told Werewolf what his mother had once told him.

"_You_'re a wimp! 'Cause you're afraid of _lightning_ and such silly children's stories!"

Sirius would have argued that Werewolf had not been that brave last night either but then Kreacher cleared his throat demonstratively and thus reminded Sirius that his parents, who were obviously angry at him, were still waiting and would certainly get only angrier with the minute.

"Okay, then stay here," Sirius told Werewolf. "It's your fault if they get angry at you. I'm going now." And that he did.

"Sirius! Where have you been? And where's the werewolf?" was the first thing his parents asked him when he entered the kitchen. Regulus was the only one eating. Their parents were usually occupied with the post and the _Daily Prophet_ during breakfast. It was a bad sign to see the newspaper untouched on the place where Kreacher had placed it. It meant the situation was serious. _Very_ serious.

"Good morning," Sirius said politely in order to pacify his parents. "I've been --" he gesticulated towards the floor, "-- downstairs. Werewolf said he won't come here. I told him he'd better come but he didn't want to."

"What!" Mr. Black stood up energetically. "I'll teach that damn half-breed to listen to orders!" He strode swiftly towards the cellar door. Sirius ran after him to find his father rattling at the locked door.

"What the --" his father grunted angrily.

"He's got a lock," Sirius explained. "He can lock the door with it. I couldn't go downstairs last night either. But then he finally --"

"_Regulus! Bring me my wand!_" Mr. Black's most dangerous voice echoed through the whole house.

Regulus, who was immediately very aware that there was no disobeying his father now, came running hurriedly, with porridge still trickling down his chin. Their father grabbed the wand and directed it at the door, which flew open with an impressive _BANG!_

"Just wait, you dirty half-breed," he muttered viciously when he stomped down the stairs. "Trying to lock me out in my own house ... _Ha!_ There you are! Got you! What do you think you're doing, eh? _What do you think you're doing?!_"

Sirius and Regulus exchanged a worried glance when they could hear a slap followed by a muffled cry. Then they heard footsteps coming closer, and Mr. Black's threats and Werewolf's frantic, "No, no, no, I didn't do anything, please don't! I swear, I didn't do anything!"

Mr. Black pulled the struggling Werewolf into the kitchen. Sirius and Regulus followed anxiously. Sirius felt bad. He was worried that his father would hit Werewolf again. It couldn't be _that_ bad that he had locked the door, right?

"What did you do to my son last night?" Mr. Black asked Werewolf, who was shivering from head to toe.

"Nothing, nothing, nothing! I didn't do anything, I swear!"

"Ha!" Mr. Black shook him roughly. "And you think I believe just one word from a werewolf?"

Sirius frowned. Then why had his father asked Werewolf a question if he didn't believe the answer anyway? It didn't make much sense. And why did his father think that Werewolf could have done anything to Sirius? _I mean, we're both six years old. What could a six-year-old boy ever do to me?_

"Please, it's true, I didn't do anything to Master Sirius!" Werewolf whimpered.

"Liar! You threatened him, didn't you? You -- you --"

"Father, wait!" Sirius shouted just in time to stop his father from slapping Werewolf. "He really didn't do anything. I-I-I went down to him because of the thunderstorm."

"Why would you go to a werewolf because of a thunderstorm?" his mother asked skeptically.

"Because ... because he was afraid," Sirius lied. He knew his mother would be angry if he showed fear. Maybe Werewolf was allowed to show fear because he wasn't a Black.

"And how would you know that?"

"Because ... because ..." But in the end, Sirius had to tell the truth. "I was afraid, too. Just a little, little bit but I wanted to go downstairs because the lightning can't hit me there. I don't want to become a Squib."

"Is this the superstitious stories the old house-elf told them?" his father said impatiently. "Well, we should be glad she kicked the bucket. At least the werewolf doesn't tell them such rubbish."

"Yes, Werewolf knows that it's the thunder that's really dangerous," Sirius said quickly, glad that his father had found a reason to like Werewolf better. "He explained to me that you _implode_ if it hits you."

Mr. Black snorted and exchanged an exasperated glance with his wife. "That's just as ludicrous as the house-elf's story."

Sirius was not fully convinced, though. Maybe his father just did not want to admit that he had no idea what 'implode' meant. Sirius was still afraid of both thunder and lightning. It was simply scary, no matter what his father said.

"Now, Sirius, put clean clothes on," his mother reprimanded him. She examined him from head to toe with a glance that was quite unnerving. "Yours are all rumpled." She wrinkled her nose as if she was looking at something disgusting. "What do you have pyjamas for if you don't wear them?"

Sirius looked himself down. It was not too bad, he thought. Werewolf's clothes were much more rumpled but his mother did not complain about that. How unfair!

"Just a moment. There's something else we need to discuss," his father said in a tone that bode ill. "Sirius, Werewolf, follow me." He led them into the living room.

"Explain yourselves," he demanded, indicating the wall.

Sirius' heart sank into his boots when he saw the numerous blue blotches on the wall. He had not expected them to stay there. Normally, everything dirty or messy was gone overnight - certainly removed by the house-elves. But now ... Sirius' father picked up the family registry. His expression was turning more and more grim.

"_This_," he said gravely, "is one of the most important documents of all wizardkind. _This_ enlists the Black heritage and their rise from the Middle Ages onwards. Have you _any_ idea how much this is worth?"

A prolonged silence followed his statement. No, Sirius had no idea what it was worth. He did not see why this thick book held such importance. Really, it did not even have moving pictures in it - just pages and pages of numbers and letters. Nothing really interesting.

"Who did this?" came the sharp question.

"I didn't do it," Sirius said quietly. He knew he had really messed things up. Although he did not know why, his father's expression and voice told him all he needed to know.

"I didn't do it either," Werewolf said quickly.

Sirius' father took a deep breath and measured them critically. "There was no one here last night but the two of you. Our house is not haunted. It is well protected against intruders. So. Who of you did it?"

"He did it." Sirius pointed at Werewolf. He knew what he was doing was hardly fair but this was an emergency case. A white lie. His father was very angry and Sirius did not want to get the punishment. Blaming it on Werewolf was the only choice he had.

"No, I didn't," Werewolf protested. "_He_ did it."

"He did it."

"No, _he _did it."

"_Enough!_" That shut them up effectively. "I want to hear the truth. _Now._"

"Er ..." Sirius threw a worried glance at Werewolf. The other boy looked tense, ready to bolt if Sirius' father raised a hand. Sirius felt much the same.

"Maybe it was a poltergeist," Werewolf suggested.

"Yeah, I think I heard it, too," Sirius added quickly, relieved that Werewolf had come up with a good idea.

"Don't be ridiculous," his father snapped. "We don't have a poltergeist in our house."

"It could've just sneaked in," Werewolf explained. "Poltergeists can be really sneaky."

"Nonsense. Our house is well-protected. No one could just _sneak in_."

"But maybe ... if it's _really _sneaky, you know," Sirius said hopefully.

"There. Is. No. Poltergeist. In. Our. House." His father's jaw clenched and his brows knitted together. Not a good sign. Sirius ducked his head - but too late. His father grabbed him roughly by the collar. "I've heard enough to know who did this, son." He hauled Sirius with him and only curtly turned around to shout at Werewolf to get back into the cellar. Sirius whimpered in fear. He knew what was coming.

The slap stung painfully. His confinement to his room was prolonged for one week.

xxxxx

Regulus hated it when Sirius was grounded. Playing alone all the time got boring quickly. Being alone with his parents was sometimes a bit scary. That's why he spent as much time as possible with Kreacher. Unfortunately, the house-elf did not have that much time because he was now responsible for caring for the whole house. Lulu was not there anymore to help him and Werewolf still had to learn many things until he would be as capable as a house-elf.

So Regulus was very relieved when Sirius was allowed to leave his room at long last. And, as always, Sirius had many new ideas for fantastic games, the best one being playing hide-and-seek together with Werewolf. It had been a bit dull lately with just the two of them playing. There was no real competition going on. Werewolf had ideas for new hiding places. He showed them that, if you stood behind a door in just the right angle, people did not see you. He discovered another brilliant hiding place in their mother's wardrobe. Regulus and Sirius had never before dared to go in there but they agreed that hiding between all the wide and pompous dressrobes in constant fear of their mother finding them was a particularly thrilling experience.

Unfortunately, Regulus lost almost every time. Perhaps it had something to do with him choosing the same hiding place again and again. Sirius and Werewolf were just better at it. And Werewolf even taught them how to count to twenty-eight.

"Eighteen, nineteen, tenteen," Regulus mumbled with his hands over his eyes, "eleventeen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight - Coming!" Excitedly, he jogged up the stairs to check in his mother's wardrobe first. No one there. Then he would try the kitchen again. One of Sirius' favourite hiding places was under the big kitchen tables. Unexpectedly, he found Werewolf standing at the base of the stairs. Regulus had to admit he was a bit disappointed. He had expected more creativity from Werewolf. But then he realised what the other boy was looking at: the row of shrunken house-elves on the wall. Of course, maybe no one had ever explained to Werewolf about death.

Regulus approached him and said quietly, "It doesn't hurt them anymore because they're dead now."

Werewolf turned to look at him. His face was even paler than usually. "But where are their arms and legs?"

"They were cut off."

"Cut off? Like with scissors?" Werewolf asked disbelievingly.

"With an axe, I think. But it doesn't hurt them anymore. Because they're dead." This was a very important point that Regulus needed to get across.

"It doesn't hurt them? Why?"

"Because they're dead. Then things don't hurt you anymore."

"That's good," Werewolf said slowly. His gaze wandered over the rows of house-elves heads once more. He looked very thoughtful and then his forehead became all wrinkly just like Regulus' father's forehead sometimes did.

"But then why's everyone afraid of dying?" Werewolf turned to Regulus, who had stood by in silence, at long last.

Regulus did not have an answer to that question. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Maybe they just don't know," Werewolf suggested. "Perhaps no one ever told them it doesn't hurt."

"Maybe," Regulus agreed. "Do you want to be my friend?"

"Yes." Werewolf smiled widely at him. "Do you want to be my friend, too?"

"Yes!" Regulus said enthusiastically. He had always been jealous of Sirius who already had friends. Now Regulus finally had his first friend, too! And his friend was also a very clever friend who could count to twenty-eight.

"We have to go looking for Sirius," Werewolf finally remembered. "He's still hiding. I can go upstairs and look in your rooms and you look in the living room and the library, okay?"

"Okay," Regulus agreed and, with a bounce in his step, he went looking for his brother.

xxxxx

It was good to have Regulus as a friend, thought Remus while he ran up the stairs. It certainly meant they could play hide-and-seek and numerous other games everyday! Bit by bit, he grew used to living here. At first, he had cried every night because he missed his parents and his home and his stuffed centaur. Then Kreacher had explained to him that his parents had not wanted him anymore because he was a werewolf. Remus did not understand that. How could they not want him? They were his parents and they couldn't just change that, could they?

Remus had waited for them to come and take him back home. After all, once they had left him at his grandfather's house for one whole week, too. But this time, his parents did not come. Many days passed, more than Remus could count, and at some point he grew angry at his parents for leaving him at this place. He did not like it here at all. He missed all his toys and his swing in the backyard. Sometimes it was cold in the cellar at night and the porridge for breakfast did not taste as it was supposed to taste.

No one tucked him in and kissed him goodnight and brushed his teeth. He had to do everything by himself. But sometimes he was a bit proud of all the things he could do now: He could tie up his shoes, make a fire, make tea and porridge and a few other meals. Kreacher had shown him a lot of things. Although Remus had not liked the house-elf at first, he had soon grown used to his company. He was really the only one Remus had left. Master and Mistress Black did not count. He rather tried to stay out of their way because they often had silver with them. Remus was all the more happy now to have Regulus as his friend. Sirius was a good playmate, too, and just as old as Remus.

And Remus was supposed to find him now. Certainly Sirius was hiding in his own room again. Maybe under his bed? But there was no one there. Or maybe under the bedcovers? Remus lifted the blanket up - and then he saw it.

Sirius had a stuffed hippogriff. It had the same colour like Remus' stuffed centaur that he missed so much: light blue. And the eyes - black buttons - had the same look like Remus' centaur. Remus swallowed and stared longingly at the hippogriff, wondering it if would feel as soft as his own stuffed animal. It could not hurt to find out, right? Very, very carefully, Remus brushed his index finger over the blue hippogriff's head. It was so very soft ... Acting on instinct, Remus grabbed the stuffed animal and pressed it against his chest. He buried his nose in the soft, soft fabric, inhaled its scent, dug his fingers into the wooly hippogriff's skin, hugged it tightly to his heart, and at this moment he knew he would never let it go again.

Of course Remus knew it was wrong to take something from someone else just like that but his longing to have the stuffed hippogriff as his companion so that he would not have to sleep alone anymore, was stronger than his morals. Besides, he had seen that Sirius had a _whole box_ full of stuffed animals. Maybe he would not even notice if one of them was missing.

Remus hid the stolen toy under his t-shirt and tiptoed down the stairs and back into the cellar. There he crawled under the old cloak that served as his blanket. _I'll name you Hippo_, he thought and kissed the hippogriff's wing.


	5. Family

**Chapter 5**

**Family**

Walburga was not happy with the way things developed. When she had persuaded her husband to purchase a werewolf, she had not meant the werewolf to become a playmate of her children. She had just wanted a replacement for the old house-elf, and Mrs. Flint had advised her to take a werewolf, which was cheaper and a better status symbol than a house-elf because, frankly, almost everyone had a house-elf nowadays, even some of the half-bloods.

Walburga decided that she would invite Mrs. Flint for tea next week and ask her how she handled her werewolf. Of course, the Flints' werewolf was female and a few years older than the Blacks'. Walburga sighed deeply. They had chosen a young werewolf because they feared an older one might be more disobedient. A young werewolf, however, they could still shape to their likes. But a younger werewolf was also less useful as he could not do many of the household chores yet. And Walburga could hardly order their werewolf to stay in the cellar and do nothing all the time. Well, she would have done it, but now that Sirius and Regulus had discovered him ...

_I really hope that one day he will be a useful servant_, Walburga thought bitterly while slowly eating her dinner without much appetite. _But that day, werewolf servants will probably already be outdated again. _

"I have a friend," Regulus announced out of the blue.

"Oh, really?" Walburga looked up from her barely touched dinner plate with mild interest. She had not been aware that Regulus had met other children since the last family gathering at the Notts. Unless ... Oh_ no. _

"Who is it?" Walburga asked.

"Werewolf," Regulus stated proudly.

Walburga gritted her teeth when her assumption was confirmed.

"What?" her husband said incredulously.

"Why?" Sirius asked curiously.

"We played together and I asked him if he wants to be my friend and he said yes."

"He said yes?" Sirius asked.

"Yes." Regulus beamed widely. "And then he asked me if I want to be his friend, too, and I said yes, _too_."

Sirius frowned. "But he's _much_ older than you."

Ignoring their sons' conversation, Orion threw Walburga a reproachful look. "Why do they play with the werewolf anyway?"

"There was nothing else for him to do," Walburga said in annoyance. "He had already finished his chores."

"Then give him more chores," Orion said. "I don't want my children to play with _werewolves._"

"Why?" Sirius asked again.

"Because it's too dangerous. Period. No more questions, no more arguing. You won't play with him again. Understand?" Orion finished his goblet of wine and put it down more loudly than necessary.

"But he's my _friend_," Regulus whined.

"Regulus, you can't be friends with a _werewolf_," Walburga said exasperatedly.

"Can I?" Sirius asked.

"Sorry?" Walburga turned her gaze to her older son in confusion.

"Can I be friends with him?" Sirius clarified, tapping his fork excitedly against his plate.

"_No_. What ... ?" Walburga was lost for words. What were they thinking?!

"But you said it's not dangerous when it's not full moon."

Orion Black took an audible intake of breath. "By that I meant that he could only turn you into a werewolf at full moon. Which will not happen because he's locked away during that night. But," he threw both boys a grave look, "you are not safe from other dangers. Werewolves lie and steal, they are violent and malicious."

"Werewolf wouldn't do that," Regulus said with a confidence only innocent children possess. "He's my friend." He seemed to think that argument put the werewolf above anything.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Orion said darkly.

"Why?" Sirius asked again but no one answered him.

"I don't want you to play with him," Walburga said in a tone that did not allow any arguments. "Werewolves are retarded and no appropriate playmates for you."

There was a gloomy silence and Walburga was just about to continue eating her meal in relief when Regulus asked, "What's 'retarded'?"

"It means stupid," Orion said curtly. "Finish your meal now."

"Werewolf isn't stupid," said Regulus and eyed his father reproachfully. "He can count to twenty-eight."

"Yeah, he taught us how to count to twenty-eight," Sirius backed his little brother up. "And he also knows how to light a fire and loads of other stuff."

"Will you finally finish your meals!" Orion bellowed, hit his open palms rather forcefully on the table and stood up to leave the dining hall without another word.

"You heard what your father said," Walburga said sternly. "Finish your meals." They did so in fearful silence. Walburga sent the boys up to their bedrooms, then called for the house-elf and the werewolf to clear the table and went to her husband's study. She knocked lightly on the door until she heard a muffled, "Come in."

Orion stood in front of the window with his back to her. On his desk stood an open bottle of high proof Red Currant Rum. It was almost empty.

"That werewolf needs to leave our house," he said in a low voice.

"Orion, we signed that magical contract, we can't just throw him out."

"I don't give a damn about _raising him to be able to integrate into wizarding society_ and all that shit," Orion almost snarled. "I don't want him here. He's a bad influence on Sirius and Regulus."

"There's nothing we can do. The Ministry is going to check on him, you --"

Orion finally turned around to look at her. His thin fingers curled tightly around the glass with the dark red liquor so that his knuckles protruded. "And what if we say something happened to him during the transformation?"

"The Trace," Walburga said in annoyance. If Orion had not drunken so much, his brain would not be so befuddled to forget about that. "They'll know where he is."

Orion snorted, emptied the whole glass in one gulp and made to refill it. Walburga, however, was quicker and Summoned the bottle to her.

"Give me the rum," Orion ordered.

"I want a private tutor for Sirius and Regulus." She eyed Orion with contempt and felt a tinge of regret that she had had to marry this retarded would-be big shot.

"What for?" Orion asked, bored. "Give me finally my rum."

"For making sure that my children will never again be outdone by a _werewolf_."

"Fine, whatever. You can hire a private tutor. Give me my rum now."

And so she did. She had reached her goal - the best for her children and the best for the name of the Blacks. Dear Merlin, if anyone ever found out that a werewolf could count to twenty-eight but her children could not ...

xxxxx

When Walburga had left his study at long last, Orion snorted once more. Not for the first time did he regret that he was married to such a stuck-up hag. His thoughts strayed to the new secretary at the Ministry, young girl, just finished Hogwarts, half-blood (unfortunately), but pretty as a Veela. Picturing her in his mind, he put his hands down his trousers.

Unfortunately, his oldest son chose that moment to burst into his study – without knocking first. Spluttering, Orion rearranged his trousers and barked at his son, "Didn't I tell you to knock before you enter a room?!"

"Yes, but Benny's gone," Sirius lamented without really paying attention to what his father had said. Fortunately, he was also too young to understand what his father had done earlier.

"What do you want?" Orion snapped. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"Because Benny's gone and I can't sleep without him and I've looked everywhere but he's not there!" Sirius burst into a gush of tears. Upon closer examination, Orion realised that Sirius had probably already been crying for a long time because his whole face was wet, his eyes were swollen red and his whimpers blotchy. The sight pacified Orion a little bit. He was still annoyed as hell but not outright furious anymore.

"What is going on?" he asked, rather confused. He had not understood much of Sirius' torrent of words.

"Benny's gone," Sirius sobbed for the third time but that did not help Orion understand more either. Maybe it was because he had drunken too much that he could not make sense of Sirius' words.

"Who?"

"_Benny!_" Sirius screamed almost in hysteria. "I couldn't sleep without him and I just couldn't find him!"

Orion was at the end of his tether. "Will you just tell me who that bloody Benny is?" he demanded.

"He's my _stuffed toy_!" Sirius' lower lip protruded and he stared at Orion with a look that clearly accused him for not knowing 'Benny'. "And he's _gone_."

"That I have understood." Orion sighed. "Sirius, you have dozens of stuffed toys. Just take another and go to bed."

"But I can't sleep without Benny."

"Kreacher can look for him tomorrow."

"_But I can't sleep without Benny!_"

Orion finally lost the last of his rather thin patience. "You're not a little baby anymore, you should be able to sleep without a ridiculous stuffed toy." That only led to more high-pitched sobs, breathless chokes and whimpers of, "But I can't sleep without Benny."

_Merlin's pants, I think I need two more bottles of __Red Currant Rum to live through this_, Orion thought rather desperately.

"Alright, alright, we'll go looking for it. When have you seen it for the last time?"

"Last night, and I have already looked everywhere --"

"Well, maybe Kreacher thought it was rubbish and disposed of it."

"Benny's not rubbish!" Sirius protested shrilly. "He's _not_!"

"For heaven's sake! Maybe Kreacher made a mistake!"

"But he can't just put Benny in the rubbish!!"

Orion decided to keep his mouth shut because everything he said made Sirius scream hysterically. He walked towards the cellar, Sirius, who kept sobbing quietly, followed him. The way down the narrow staircase was rather tricky because Orion had definitely had too much rum.

"Kreacher!" he called and only a second later did the house-elf appear next to him. "Sirius is looking for his stuffed toy. Did you, by any chance, remove it while cleaning up his room?"

"Kreacher would never do such a thing!" the house-elf immediately defended itself.

"It might've happened by accident. Just check the rubbish again."

Sirius rushed forward to dig into the rubbish bins. Appalled, Orion called him back. "Sirius! Don't touch that dirt!"

"But what if Benny's in there?"

Orion grabbed his collar and hauled him backwards. "That doesn't matter. Kreacher will search through it. That is no job of yours, do you understand me?"

"Maybe the half-breed has it," Kreacher suggested. "Kreacher saw him sneaking in this evening. He looked very suspicious."

"Okay. Let's see if the werewolf has it." Tiredly, Orion staggered further into the cellar. He cast a _Lumos_ spell to see something in the dark but it only increased his headache. The play of light and shadows caused his head to spin. Come to think of it, _everything_ seemed to be spinning. And just why where here so many things over which you could trap or into which you could run? _There_. That bundle of rags and old cushions must be the werewolf's sleeping place.

"He, werewolf, get up!" Orion shouted and pointed the light of his wand at the werewolf's den. At once, the rags started moving and out of it came the boy's head. His hair was mussed from sleep and his pupils were small in the wandlight – but very alert.

"W-w-what --" he stammered in confusion and clutched something to his chest.

Then there was a whirlwind at Orion's side and next moment, Sirius hurled himself at the werewolf with a shrill cry. The other boy cried, too. In shock or in pain – because Sirius punched him rather fiercely.

"Eh, what're you doing there?" Orion slurred. He tried to hold his wand arm steady to recognise something else but the blurred shapes of the two boys, rags and light and shadow. His arm, however, refused to cooperate.

"What did you do to Benny?" Sirius shrieked. Orion was not sure who punched who in that mess of entangled limbs and rags. He just knew that two young boys fighting caused an annoying noise.

"I didn't do anything to him --"

"You took him away from me --"

"But --"

"Give him back to me!"

"_No!_"

"He's mine!"

"He's mine now!"

"Be quiet!" Orion tried to interfere but nobody listened to him. Maybe he could use a spell ... but which spell would work here? Besides, it would be rather difficult to aim correctly.

"You stupid retarded Mudblood-half-breed-blood-traitor-muggle-idiot-thief!" Sirius enumerated all the accusations he knew. "Give Benny back to me!"

"No! I want to keep him!"

Finally, Orion had a glorious idea: He could use a Summoning Charm to get Sirius' stuffed toy back! Well, inebriated minds needed a bit longer to figure out the obvious. Orion cleared his throat. "_Accio _Benny," he intoned. He needed three more attempts for it to finally work. But then the light blue coloured stuffed hippogriff landed in front of his feet. He bent to retrieve it but changed his mind halfway because it made him feel like vomiting. Anyway, Sirius was quicker and had already dashed here to reclaim his beloved Benny.

"Father, he must get punishment," Sirius reminded him tearfully. "He stole Benny from me."

_Oh__, right._ Orion felt pride swell in his chest. His son would make a fine Black someday. He had just the right sense of justice and honour.

"So. You, werewolf," Orion started what was meant to become a menacing tirade. "You ... did wrong. You ... stole Sirius' toy. Half-breed," he added to emphasise his point.

"But he has so many stuffed animals and I don't have any," complained the werewolf. "It's unfair. It's really unfair. Why can't I have a stuffed hippogriff, too?"

"Because ... because you can't just steal, that's why." Orion frowned. Was he really answering that half-breed's question? He was not the one who had to answer! "Who do you think you are, eh?" He advanced, growing more and more angry with the minute. The werewolf boy tried to do a runner but Orion was faster. He lifted his open hand and aimed a hard kick at the werewolf – but somehow his hand only met thin air – and Orion lost his balance. Cursing loudly, he toppled over a cauldron and spilled dirty laundry all over himself. He heard Sirius snicker and got only more furious at the werewolf.

"Bloody werewolf!" he growled. "Now you're really in trouble!" Rushing forwards, he made to grab the boy but the little half-breed was damn fast. He darted through the cauldrons and chests and vanished somewhere in the dark. Orion cursed and threatened and yelled at the werewolf to come out but of course that did not happen.

All of it was just a very wretched evening in the life of Orion Regulus Black, and so he decided to pass out.

xxxxx

Sirius was finally back in his bed. But he could not sleep. It was not only because of the emotional exertion of losing Benny and recapturing him. Then there had been more excitement: His father had gone completely crazy and had just lain down on the spot and fallen asleep. Sirius had woken his mother up so she would see what was wrong with her husband. In conclusion, Sirius had learned many new swearwords, which his mother had hurled at his father's sleeping frame. But that was not the reason that prevented him from falling asleep.

What kept him awake was something Werewolf had said: _But he has so many stuffed animals and I don't have any. It's unfair_. He had been angry at Werewolf for abducting Benny, _very _angry, and he had wanted to stay that way but that statement had come as such a shock that Sirius had fully forgotten his anger. How could a child not have stuffed animals? Sirius had dozens. And, more importantly, how could Werewolf fall asleep without a stuffed toy to cuddle? Sirius did not understand why it made him feel so sad. And there was a painful pang in his chest (Hopefully it was not a sickness?) when he thought about Werewolf all alone in his bed without a stuffed toy ... All that time ... Had Werewolf ever been able to sleep?

Resolving that he would not find sleep anyway if he kept thinking that much, Sirius stood up again and sneaked out of his bedroom and down into the cellar. How much scarier the big house was when everyone was asleep. It was so eerily silent, not to mention _dark_.

"Heh!" Sirius quietly called down the cellar. "Heh, Werewolf, are you there?" Carefully, he went a few steps further down the stairs. "It's me, Sirius." Two more steps and he had arrived at the base of the stairs. All his muscles were tensed, he was ready to bolt up the stairs again if something from the dark attacked him.

"I don't have silver with me," he added, presuming that maybe Werewolf's fear of silver was the reason why he had not replied to Sirius yet. "Werewolf?"

"Yes?"

Although Sirius should have expected it, the soft voice in the dark and the rustling of fabric made him jump. "Er ... hi?" he replied.

"What do you want?" he heard Werewolf's sleepy voice coming from the corner of the room. "It's in the middle of the night."

"Do you really have no stuffed toys at all?" Sirius asked directly.

"No," Werewolf said simply.

"Why not?"

"I just don't have any."

"Oh."

There was a long silence. Sirius stared intensely into the darkness, willing his eyes to see something. Could that shadow there be Werewolf? Sirius did not really feel comfortable talking to the darkness.

Finally, Werewolf spoke up. "You woke me up in the middle of the night to ask me that?"

"Yes. I thought you weren't sleeping maybe."

"I was sleeping."

"Yes. Werewolf?"

"Yes?"

"You can have one of my stuffed toys."

"Really?!"

Sirius startled because suddenly Werewolf's voice was so loud, enthusiastic and not sleepy at all. "Sure, I have enough. You can come into my room and choose one. Just not Benny. Because he's my favourite stuffed toy. And not Plimpy either because she's my second favourite. And not my new dragon either because it can make real smoke come out of its mouth."

"Can I come now?" Werewolf asked eagerly.

"Yes. But you must be quiet. Mother will get really angry if she finds out that we're still awake."

"Okay."

Together, they tiptoed up the stairs and into Sirius' room. He was glad when they finally arrived and he could switch on the light and could see something again. He pulled the box with the stuffed toys from under his bed and beckoned Werewolf closer. One by one, Sirius divided his toys into two groups: one consisting of his favourite stuffed toys or those that could 'do' something special, and one of the remaining toys from which Werewolf could choose one.

"Which one do you want?" Sirius asked once he was finished.

Without much thought, Werewolf grabbed a grey dragon, examined it closely and then said, "This one. What's his name?"

"It's a she," Sirius corrected him, bewildered that Werewolf had not seen that. "And her name's Draga. She's Benny's grandmother."

Werewolf looked a bit worried when he heard that. "Can I still have her then?"

"Sure. I and Benny can come to visit you and Draga. Or you and Draga come to visit me and Benny."

Werewolf smiled and patted Draga's head and tail. "So who are Benny's parents?"

"He just has grandparents," Sirius explained. "Regulus' unicorn is the grandfather and his dragon is Benny's little brother." He thoughtfully watched Werewolf, who experimented with Sirius' dragon that could spit real smoke.

"Heh, Werewolf?" he said uncertainly.

"Yes?" Werewolf jumped a little when he got smoke in his nose, and sneezed softly.

"Are you and Regulus really friends?"

"Yes." Werewolf held the stuffed dragon a bit farther from him and pressed the button for the smoke once more. "That's a great dragon," he said, really impressed with the toy.

"Yes," Sirius said impatiently. "So, we are friends, too, right?"

Werewolf looked briefly up at him. "Of course," he said and pressed the button _again_.

"Oh. Good." Sirius sat down next to Werewolf cross-legged and with Benny in his lap and grinned at his friend. Werewolf grinned back at him and Sirius noticed that his front teeth had grown considerably. And another tooth was already missing. Sirius really hoped he would catch up with Werewolf at some part so he would be the first one to have lost all his baby teeth.

"I think I'm gonna lose another tooth soon," Sirius informed Werewolf and leant forwards to blow away the smoke from the dragon.

"Really?" Werewolf tried to blow the smoke into Sirius' face, making him giggle.

"Yes. I'll probably get another dragon for Christmas. One that can even spit little sparks."

"That would be great. I hope I'll get gobstones that can change their colour."

"And I want to get a toy wand, you know, one that makes light."

"I really want to get a toy broom."

And so they proceeded to enumerate all their Christmas wishes. There were so many that Santa Claus would certainly need _years_ of bringing them everything they pictured in their fantasies.

* * *

**Author's Note:** As you can probably tell, next chapter will be about Christmas. Writing it will be pretty weird in the midst of summer ;-) Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I hoped you liked this chapter as well. Suggestions and criticism is always welcome, of course.


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